


Fairytale of Eureka

by burglebezzlement



Category: Eureka (TV)
Genre: Baking, Baking Competition, Beauty and the Beast Elements, Case Fic, F/M, Fairy Tale Elements, Mad Science, Mad Scientist of the Week, Rapunzel Elements, Sleeping Beauty Elements, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-14
Updated: 2017-05-14
Packaged: 2018-10-22 13:13:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10697730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/burglebezzlement/pseuds/burglebezzlement
Summary: The annual Eureka town bake-off is going great — until taste-testers start coming down with fairy-tale afflictions. With Jack out of town, Jo needs to figure out what’s going on before it’s too late.





	Fairytale of Eureka

**Author's Note:**

  * For [afinch](https://archiveofourown.org/users/afinch/gifts).



> Happy 5K! I had a lot of fun coming up with potential Mad Science of the Week theories for your request. Hope you enjoy!
> 
> This is set in Season 2, as an infill between Jo kissing Zane at the end of Maneater and the season finale.

“You’re sure you’ll be okay here, Jo?”

“Yes!” Jo knows she’s letting her frustration through, but it’s the fourth time Carter’s asked. “We’ll be fine,” she says. Again. “Sarah and I will keep an eye on Zoe. You go have fun with your sheriff buddies.”

“They’re not my buddies,” Jack says. “It’s not like I even want to go to some Sheriff’s conference. I won’t even be able to talk to these guys without rewriting just about everything I’ve done here.”

“My heart bleeds for you, Carter.”

“And you’re sure you’ll —”

“Yes!” Jo takes a deep breath. “Yes. We’ll be fine.”

“But that bake sale thing —”

“Bake-off.”

Carter scratches his head. “Isn’t that going to need both of us? Eureka town events always seem to turn out messy.”

“We’ll be fine, Carter.”

“You’re sure? It’s not some secret Department of Defense bakeoff where all the cupcakes are next-generation hand-grenades?”

“It’s cupcakes and cookies and it’s completely normal. We might get a case or two of accidental food poisoning, but I promise you, it’ll be the normal kind.”

“You sure about that?”

“Oh my god!” Jo throws up her hands. “Just get out of here, will you? We’ll be fine.”

“Okay,” Jack says. He smiles one more time and then he’s out the door.

* * *

Zoe’s already waiting outside the bunker when Jo pulls up to pick her up. She’s holding a plastic cupcake container that’s filled with something. Jo’s not sure what.

“Didn’t take you for the baking type,” Jo says, while Zoe buckles her seatbelt.

“I’m so not.” Zoe puts the container on the floor by her feet. “My Science in Everyday Life teacher told us we could skip the next home project if we entered the bake-off.”

Jo puts the cruiser in gear and pulls out of the bunker’s gravel parking area. “Science in Everyday Life?”

“Like cooking and stuff. How not to die of malnutrition. How to work with other scientists.” Zoe rolls her eyes. “They made us do a week-long experiment where we had to partner up and run a fake lab. The centrifuge kept breaking and someone had to baby-sit it. Me and Pilar were, like, ready to kill each other by the end of that week. It was supposed to teach us not to team up with other scientists lightly but I think they just don’t want us doing science at all.”

“My school just did flour babies.” 

“Flour babies?”

Jo smiles. “So you get extra credit for this?”

“I’d better.” Zoe glares out the window.

* * *

It’s chilly outside, but the air inside Cafe Diem is warm and smells like vanilla and cinnamon. Vincent has arranged the tables in two rows, and people are setting up their home-baked goods on them.

The cupcakes Zoe unpacks look more like hockey pucks smeared with cream cheese. “What?” Zoe asks, when she notices Jo staring. 

“They look delicious,” Jo says. “We should save some for your dad.”

Zoe scrunches her nose up. “Doctor Singh didn’t say they had to be edible.”

_Doctor Singh may be rethinking the challenge requirements _, Jo thinks, but she doesn’t say anything.__

Jo notices right away when Zane arrives. It’s in the way the feeling in the room shifts when he walks in. Even the anthropologists across from Zoe, who’ve been setting up posters on the development of their authentic Neolithic stone bread recipe, stop to look at him. The bad boy scientist of Eureka. The man who crashed the New York Stock Exchange and got kicked out of three universities before he turned twenty.

The man who just saved the town.

Jo hates it. She reminds herself how much she hates it when Zane steps up beside her. Too close to be comfortable in Vincent’s crowded cafe. Not close enough for Jo to smell him, to feel the warmth of his body.

“Hey, Deputy Lupo,” he says. His voice low, pitched just for her.

Jo turns. “Donovan.”

Zane smiles, the crooked smile that Jo still can’t decide how she feels about. “What brings you out to this fine event?” he asks.

“I’m helping Zoe set up,” Jo says.

Zoe grins and makes shooing motions with her hands. “Go! I’m good here.”

 _Traitor,_ Jo thinks.

She and Zane start walking along the tables, admiring everyone’s baked goods and talking about muffins. It’d be normal, if it weren’t for the waves of Zane-related gossip that follow along behind them and the awkward silence of what they’re not talking about.

The kiss.

Or maybe what they’re not talking about is what comes after the kiss. Because the kiss was amazing. Jo has no complaints about the kiss. It’s the part where Zane hasn’t talked to her since then that’s — confusing. 

“Looks like Doctor Henderson brought mini-muffins again,” Jo says. “Those were amazing last year.” On a long, overnight shift, Jo still sometimes dreams about Doctor Henderson’s banana nut mini-muffins. A crisp top crust covered in sugar, perfect, melt-in-your-mouth interior, and a glorious balance of banana, nut, and sugar.

“So when do we get to dig in?” Zane asks.

Jo points over to the corner, where Vincent’s conferring with a woman whose long, dark hair is worn loose over her lab coat. “Once the judges are done.”

“They should hurry up,” Zane says, his voice low. “I don’t like waiting.”

Jo’s not sure how to take that. Is that aimed at her? Because Zane’s the one who didn’t call her after that kiss.

Zane’s the one who’s going to blow out of Eureka as soon as his probation is up.

“We’re good with waiting here in Eureka,” Jo says. “It’s a small town. Maybe it’s not your thing, but it works for us.”

Zane smiles his crooked, infuriating smile. “Right. I wouldn’t understand that.” He pulls a mini-muffin out of his hoodie pocket and hands it to Jo. “I don’t believe in waiting for good things.”

“Did you steal this from Doctor Henderson’s display?” Jo hisses.

Zane shrugs. “You said they were your favorite.”

“But the judging hasn’t started yet,” Jo says. “If Doctor Henderson gets disqualified because of this —”

“Relax,” Zane says. “She’s got the full two dozen and then some.”

Jo shakes her head. “It’s still against the rules.”

Zane stares at her for a long moment, and then takes the mini-muffin back. “Fine,” he says. He stuffs it into his mouth. “I don’t need this,” he says, around the muffin. “See you around, Deputy Lupo.”

“Zane —”

Jo’s not sure what she’s trying to say. Don’t leave? Don’t steal? Don’t be so… so _Zane_? 

Instead, she turns her back and deliberately doesn’t watch him go. 

There’s plenty of other scientists to chat with, plenty more displays to admire. There’s Cantonese mooncake, and individual servings of flan on little plastic plates, and little boiled English puddings sitting next to an experimental pressure cooker. Someone’s got single-serving fruit tarts with creme patisserie topped with candied slices of a fruit that doesn’t look like anything Jo’s ever seen before. Maybe an experimental varietal from the New Plants Research Project. The tarts look delicious, and Jo’s suddenly glad Carter’s not there to try to enforce the “no GD research in town events” rule. 

Fargo has two dozen cupcakes in front of him, neatly frosted with lavender frosting and decorated with sparkling silver sugar. They’re sitting in a cupcake display made from twisted metal wire.

“Those look good,” Jo says suspiciously.

“Thanks!” Fargo smiles. “They’re my grandma Belle’s famous recipe.”

“Can I have everyone’s attention?” Vincent’s up at the bar, waving his hands. He pulls up his phone and opens the loudspeaker. “Attention, please!”

The crowd goes quiet as everyone turns to look at the judges. 

“Doctor Singh and I have completed our judge’s rounds,” Vincent says. “Thank you all, for another wonderful year showcasing Eureka’s diverse cooking talents! We’re both so impressed with all the entries, and Doctor Singh and I had a difficult time choosing the winners.”

Jo leans back against the wall while Vincent and Doctor Singh announce the prizes.

The fruit tart gets a special prize for New Ingredient of the Year. The prize is accepted by Doctor Melbourne from Subatomic Physics, and Jo’s surprised to hear that the good doctor hybridized the grousefruit in his home greenhouse. The anthropologists accept a prize for Best Supporting Evidence for their stone bread, although Jo notices Vince rubbing his jaw while Dr. Singh announces that prize.

Doctor Henderson wins first place for her mini-muffins. She’s placed highly in previous Eureka bake-offs, so it’s not a surprise. This year she’s made more than one kind, though, and Jo makes a mental note to get to her table so she can try the Carrot Ginger and Chocolate Bran muffins before they’re gone.

“Jo?” Zoe’s waving from across the room.

“Hey,” Jo says, pushing through the crowd to Zoe’s table. “Sorry your cupcakes didn’t win.”

“Whatever.” Zoe shakes her head. “Hey, can you cover my table for a minute?”

“Sure,” Jo says. 

While Zoe and Lucas make the round of the tables, Jo says hi to a few more people, and stops several near-sighted scientists from trying one of Zoe’s hockey pucks. All the more for Carter to enjoy when he gets back.

Zoe and Lucas bring back a Cafe Diem serving tray filled with one of almost everything in the contest. Jo snags one of the fruit tarts — delicious — and a couple of the mini-muffins.

“The banana-nut were already gone,” Lucas says, taking one of the individual flans. 

“I accept payment in carrot-ginger.” Jo peels off the wrapper and carefully breaks the muffin into smaller pieces. Delicious, she decides, after trying the first piece. Just as good as banana-nut. Maybe even better. The carrot makes the muffin yielding and soft, and the ginger flavor is perfectly balanced.

Zoe and Lucas pull up a couple more chairs, and they all pass around the snacks, trying the different options. Zoe’s cupcakes remain untouched until Lucas insists on trying one. His teeth get stuck in the cake part, which is a disturbing shade of red when he finally manages to bite into it.

“Oh, that is just wrong,” Jo says when Lucas holds the cupcake out for inspection. 

“They’re red velvet,” Zoe says, like that should explain it.

Lucas swallows, gallantly. “The frosting’s pretty good,” he says. 

Jo laughs and tries the chocolate bran muffin. 

She’s not even paying attention to Zane. She doesn’t even know that he’s over on the other side of the room, flirting with Doctor Sancress from Higher Order Mathematics. Because she doesn’t care. _Damn it._

 _Guess I know where I stand with him,_ Jo thinks.

* * *

Jo gets up every morning at 5 AM for calisthenics drills. Sunday mornings, she usually does a 10K run too, before showering for church. Special Forces training habits die hard, and Jo’s never been interested in anything less than excellence. 

This Sunday morning, though, Jo pulls herself out of groggy dreams where a scientist with messy hair and blue eyes makes out with half of a cheerleading squad Eureka doesn’t actually have. She slaps the Off button on her alarm as soon as it rings, and flops back down on her pillow and tries not to think about it.

She’s re-reading an article about hand grips in last month’s Women & Weapons to distract herself when her cell phone rings. 

“Deputy Lupo.”

“Deputy Lupo? This is S.A.R.A.H.”

“Sarah?” Now that’s confusing. Jo waves her hand to turn her bedside lamp on. “What’s wrong? Did Zoe not get home?”

“Zoe’s home,” Sarah says. “She didn’t want me to call you.”

“Is she okay? What’s wrong? Did you call Carter?”

“Sheriff Carter is outside of cell phone range,” Sarah says. “I think you should get here, Deputy Lupo. Something’s wrong with Zoe.”

* * *

This time of morning, Eureka’s roads are mostly empty, but Jo puts on the lights and sirens anyway. 

Sarah’s got the lights on in the parking area when Jo pulls in. The doors open automatically when Jo approaches, gun drawn.

Downstairs, she sees — nothing. Just the usual bunker, lit with hidden lights and filled with plants. 

“Zoe?” Jo keeps her weapon low. “It’s Jo. Sarah said there was a problem.”

“I’m fine,” Zoe says. Jo can’t tell where she’s saying it from.

“Zoe is upstairs,” Sarah says.

“Traitor,” Zoe yells.

Zoe’s bedroom looks like any other teenager’s. She’s got clothing strewn across the floor, and her bed’s unmade. A snarl of phone and laptop chargers sits on top of her books over on the desk. 

What’s not normal is Zoe’s hair, which spills across her shoulders and down to her waist. It’s thick, hanging like spun gold in the light from Zoe’s bedside lamp. 

Whatever’s going on here, it doesn’t look like the kind of problem that can be solved with a gun. Jo holsters her weapon. “Zoe?”

“I don’t know why it’s doing this,” Zoe says. Her voice quavers.

Jo sits down beside Zoe on the bed. “What happened, Zoe?”

Zoe’s hands are shaking. “It won’t stop growing,” she says.

She’s got the long, heavy mass of hair over her shoulder, and she’s got a knife in her hand. She raises the knife to try to cut the hair, and Jo reaches out to take her hand and stop her.

“Let’s try scissors first,” Jo says. “Then we’ll figure out what’s going on.”

Zoe half-laughs, half-sobs. “You think I didn’t try scissors already?” She reaches under her hair and pulls a pair of broken scissors off her lap.

“So what happened?” Jo asks. She takes the knife away from Zoe. “Did you try a new hair product?”

“No,” Zoe says, emphatically. “I haven’t done anything, Jo, I swear. I haven’t even taken a shower since yesterday morning. Before the bake-off.”

“Fargo didn’t give you a new shampoo? Maybe ask you to test something for him?”

“I’m not stupid,” Zoe says, indignantly. “I wouldn’t take shampoo from Fargo.”

Jo looks Zoe up and down. Under the hair, Zoe’s wearing jeans and a tank top. Suspicious clothing choice for someone who said they’d be home and in bed all night, but Jo decides to let it pass. 

“Get your shoes,” Jo says. “We’re going to GD. Someone’s going to know what’s going on.”

Zoe lets Jo help her pull the hair back with zip ties so it’s not falling all over the place. It’s heavy, even though it’s only down to Zoe’s waist.

“Sarah, we’re going to GD,” Jo calls out as they grab Zoe’s coat, cell phone, and keys. “If Carter calls, tell him to call Zoe and we can explain.” If they can. Jo’s never seen anything like this before.

“I’ll keep an eye on things here,” Sarah says. She sounds worried.

* * *

Jo calls Allison on the way in to GD. When they arrive, Allison’s there to greet them, to get Zoe settled into the infirmary.

After they get Zoe’s vitals taken and confirm she’s not in immediate danger, the team starts trying to get a sample of the hair. Razor blades, scalpels, and an experimental laser cutter don’t work. 

“Let’s get Henry down here with his torch,” Jo hears one of the medical techs say. 

The zip tie Jo put right at the base of Zoe’s scalp when they left the bunker is now a full inch past her shoulders. Zoe’s hair is still growing. _This isn’t good_ , Jo thinks.

“We’re going to figure this out,” she says, to Zoe, who’s lying back in the infirmary bed. She looks pale.

“Promise?” Zoe asks.

Jo leans over and hugs her. “Promise.”

Allison pulls Jo away from the bed, to the other side of the room, and Jo’s immediately worried. If Allison can’t say whatever this is in front of Zoe.… 

“You tried calling Carter?” Allison asks.

“First thing Sarah did,” Jo says. “He’s away at that sheriff’s conference.”

Allison shakes her head. “There’s something going on with Zoe’s protein synthesis gateways,” she says. “I’m auditing all active projects, but I’m not seeing anything obviously related. I think we have to consider that there may something else going on here.”

“Right,” Jo says. “I’m on it.”

* * *

Jo’s first stop after General Dynamics is Cafe Diem. What Vince doesn’t know about what’s going on in Eureka isn’t worth knowing, and she needs a Vinspresso to make it through this.

Vince has Jo’s double espresso hammer already up on the bar when she comes through the door.

“I heard about Zoe,” he says.

“How —” Jo shakes her head. The ways of Vincent’s gossip network are mysterious. “Did you see anything at the Bake-Off yesterday that might explain it?”

“Nothing.” Vince looks worried. “Is Zoe going to be okay?”

“Allison’s figuring out what’s going on,” Jo says. “You didn’t see anything at all? This is Eureka. There must have been something out of the ordinary.”

“Doctor Singh did say Zoe’s cupcakes were the worst she’d ever tasted,” Vince says. “But that’s hardly —”

“Nothing? Not even Fargo?”

“Well.” Vince presses his lips together. “I didn’t want to say anything.”

“Say it,” Jo says. “Zoe’s in trouble.”

“There was something off about Fargo’s cupcakes,” Vince says. “I’m not sure if he got help, or —”

Jo smiles. Another Fargo problem. This one might be wrapped up by lunch.

* * *

When Jo gets to Fargo’s house, he’s sitting at his kitchen counter, swaddled in an enormous robe and looking down into a cup of coffee. He’s got his head propped up on his arm. There’s another cup of coffee in front of him, and a new pot brewing behind him on his multi-functional coffee brewer.

“You doing okay there, Fargo?”

“Jo?” He turns to look at her, his eyes bleary, and then yawns. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m here to find out what you put in your cupcakes,” Jo says. She pulls his coffee cups away from him. “What button did you press, Fargo?”

“Didn’t press any button.” Fargo’s eyes start drifting shut.

“Yeah, well, maybe if you didn’t stay up all night —”

Fargo’s head slips off his hand and slams down onto his countertop. Jo stands still for a moment, and then there’s a sound.

Fargo snoring. Of course.

Jo pulls out her phone and calls Allison. “I think we’ve got another one,” she says.

She pokes around in Fargo’s trash while she’s waiting for the GD ambulance transport team to show up. Under an empty coffee can, she finds several pink boxes, folded up to fit in the trash. They’ve got a fancy sticker from Magnolia Bakery.

“Oh, Fargo.”

* * *

“How does Fargo have the same thing I have?” Zoe asks, looking suspicious. “His hair looks normal.”

Fargo’s in the next infirmary bed. He’s got a large take-out Vinspresso cup clutched in his arms like a stuffed animal, and his head is snuggled into the pillows. He’s snoring loudly.

“Doesn’t look like it, does it?” Allison says. “But when we ran the fluid from Fargo’s spinal tap, we found abnormally elevated levels of somnogen proteins in his CSF.”

“In English,” Jo says, shaking her head. Normally Carter’s there to say that for her.

“Fargo’s protein synthesis gateways are messed up,” Allison says. “Just like Zoe’s. We’re just seeing a different presentation.”

“So they’ve got to have something in common,” Jo says. “They both entered the contest.”

“But we don’t have any other reports,” Allison says. “There were at least twenty other contestants.”

“It can’t just be something they ate,” Jo says. “Vince was one of the judges. And he tried everything. Even Zoe’s cupcakes.”

Zoe looks up from underneath her ever-growing hair. “Hey!”

“Sorry,” Jo says, unrepentantly. “But Vince hasn’t heard anything, and he’s not growing Rapunzel hair or sleeping uncontrollably. Unless he grew a tail he wasn’t telling me about, there’s got to be something else.”

She sits down beside Zoe’s bed. Zoe’s still wearing the jeans and tank top she was wearing when Jo arrived at the bunker. They’re not the same clothes she had on yesterday, but it’s not like Zoe would sleep in jeans.

And maybe that means something. “Zoe?” Jo asks.

“Yeah?” Zoe’s on her side, her hair spread out on a medical cart behind her while one of the med-techs tries to cut through it with a diamond-tipped saw.

“Why are you wearing jeans?”

Zoe’s eyes dart off to the side, like she’s wondering if she can get away with a lie. “Promise you won’t tell my dad?”

“I promise nothing, young lady.” Jo keeps her face neutral. “We need to know everything so we can cure you.”

“It’s not like that,” Zoe says. “There was a meteor shower last night, and Lucas picked me up at 3 AM to go watch it from the roof of Tesla.” She watches Jo’s face and then sighs. “Not like that! It’s just, like, astronomy. But Dad wouldn’t get it.”

“How did you get out?”

“Sarah’s overnight maintenance shutdown window.”

“Sarah’s the only one who can open the door,” Jo says.

“Which is why I took the ladder and Dad’s skylight.” Zoe tries to shake her head, and then winces when her hair stops her. “I’m really sorry, Jo.”

“You told me you’d be home, asleep. You lied to me.”

“I was asleep! I just got up early. It’s not a big deal, Jo.”

“That’s not what your dad’s going to think,” Jo says, but she pats Zoe’s hand. Zoe’s got enough to worry about right now.

A meteor shower. It’s right up Fargo’s alley, but by the looks of Fargo, he’d barely dragged himself out of bed before Jo got there. He must have been asleep all night. And Fargo would have been watching from a telescope, not the roof of Tesla.

Jo makes a mental note to figure out how Lucas got after-hours access to Tesla, and then lets her mind run through the scene at Fargo’s house again, looking for anything that might connect Zoe and Fargo. They both brought cupcakes, but a scientist crusading against people who bake cupcakes seems a little unlikely, even for Eureka. It’s not like Fargo even baked his own.

Fargo’s cupcakes.

“You both lied,” Jo says.

“Yes!” Zoe throws up her hands. “Look, Lucas and I are very sorry and you can tell my dad and he’ll ground me for life and then you’ll be responsible, Jo, but if you want the total and complete destruction of my social life on your conscience, I will accept my fate. I’m sorry.”

“Not what I meant.” Jo waves her hand. “You lied about going out with Lucas. Fargo lied about baking his own cupcakes. And now you’re both here, in the infirmary, with fairy tale injuries.” She looks over at Allison. “Do we have any truth serum projects?”

Allison pulls up something on the monitor while Jo shakes Fargo, hard. His empty Vinspresso cup rolls off onto the floor, but his eyes eventually drift open. 

“Fargo!”

“Jo?” He smiles, sleepily. “Jo, I didn’t know you cared. Thought you and Zane —”

 _Not now_. “Fargo, what did you eat at the bake-off?”

“Nothing as good as my Grandma Belle’s cupcakes,” Fargo says. “I was robbed. Want to file a police report.”

“We know you cheated,” Jo informs him. “What did you eat, Fargo?”

Eventually, with another coffee, Jo gets the list out of him. 

“Well?” She looks over at Zoe. “What did you have on that list?”

“Just the banana-nut muffin,” Zoe says, looking a bit guilty. “Lucas didn’t tell me it was the last one. I wouldn’t have eaten it if I had known you weren’t going to get one, Jo.”

“Save it,” Jo says. “If I’d eaten the banana nut muffin, I might have been the one here instead of you and Fargo.”

Maybe. If lying to yourself about how you feel about messy-haired, jerk scientists counts.

Jo’s stomach goes cold. Zane. She has a vivid memory of him stuffing a banana nut muffin into his mouth.

And Zane’s never been good with the truth.

“I have to go,” she says, pulling on her deputy’s coat. “Allison?”

“I’m auditing Dr. Henderson’s research,” Allison says. “She works in proteins.”

“I’ll bring her in,” Jo promises. “I just have to check on Zane first.”

Her mind’s spinning out scenarios. Zane, his hair longer than Zoe’s. Zane, falling asleep in a bathtub. Zane —

“Dr. Henderson’s security badge says she’s in the building.” Allison meets Jo’s eyes. “I’ve got it. Go take care of Zane.”

* * *

Jo knows exactly where Zane’s living these days. It’s one of the apartments over in a converted house on the outskirts of town. It’s the type of place that tends to be reserved for temporary employees, people who haven’t settled into Eureka enough to have a house or a bunker like normal scientists. 

Just one more piece of evidence that Zane only thinks of Eureka as temporary. 

Zane’s unit has an exterior door, and when Jo presses the doorbell button, she can hear it ringing inside, followed by a synthesized voice announcing her. _Deputy Jo Lupo is at the door._

She waits a few seconds. Silence. 

“Zane?” She pounds on the front door. “Zane? Are you in there?”

No response.

“Zane, if you’re in there, get away from the door. I’m going to break it down.” 

She pounds on the door one more time. 

If Zane’s actually out with one of the scientists he was flirting with at the Bake-Off, he’s going to have to pay for a new door. And Jo’s not going to apologize.

She’s getting the equipment out of her vehicle to start standard breach procedures when she hears a voice from inside the apartment.

“Jo?”

“Zane!” Jo runs back to the door. It’s still locked. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Zane says. His voice is muffled. Uneven.

Jo pauses to listen. “You don’t sound fine,” she says.

“It’s fine.” Zane definitely sounds weird. Like he’s trying to talk through a mouthful of marbles or something. “Go away.”

“There was something in Doctor Henderson’s banana nut muffins,” Jo says. “Zoe and Fargo are down at the GD infirmary.”

“Let me know once they find the cure,” Zane says. Only it comes out more like _Le meh ow en ey ind ah cuh_. Something’s wrong.

“We need to get you down to GD,” Jo says. “Come on, Zane.” She leans up against the door. “Let me in.”

“Don’t want you to see me like this,” Zane says. Or that’s what it sounds like.

“I don’t care,” Jo says. “I just want to get you down to GD. We can deal with whatever’s going on down there.”

Zane’s quiet, and Jo’s starting to wonder if she needs to breach the door after all when the lock clicks. 

She’s not sure what she’s expecting, but it’s not what she sees when the door finally swings inward. 

Zane’s wearing jeans and an open button-down shirt over a bare chest. When Jo looks up, she realizes why he’s not wearing his usual T-shirt. His forehead looks enlarged, under wild hair that’s grown long and tangled in the night. When he opens his mouth, glistening teeth flash behind his lips.

“So?” he says. The s comes out in a whistle between his teeth.

Jo’s heart twists in her chest at the thought that Zane woke up like this and didn’t ask for help.

 _He’s been on his own for a long time_ , she realizes.

She reaches out and takes his hand. It’s covered in thick fur, and his fingernails have grown into claws. 

He’s still Zane.

“Come on,” she says, meeting his eyes, which are still as blue as Lake Eureka in the summer. “Let’s get you down to GD.”

* * *

Dr. Henderson is standing next to Allison at the infirmary computer. “I feel terrible,” she says. “Absolutely terrible. Normally I’d never bake in the lab, but our team’s been behind on production for our next serum trial and I had to babysit the centrifuge over the weekend. I know how much the town likes my mini-muffins.” She shakes her head. “I am so sorry.”

“Doctor Singh says you should never eat or cook in a lab,” Zoe says from her bed. 

“Not helping,” Jo mutters.

“I know.” Dr. Henderson runs her hand through her hair. “I know better than this. I’m going to decline my prize and retire from baking.”

“Let’s not get hasty,” Jo says, thinking of mini-muffins. “Let’s figure out what’s going on here first.”

“That’s what I don’t understand,” Allison says. “You’re not working on a truth serum.”

“We’re working on building protein gateway synthesis markers that can take advantage of the mind-body connection,” Dr. Henderson says. “The idea is that we can give the serum to people with protein disorders, and they can use the mind-body connection to guide their body into shift their own protein synthesis patterns.”

Dr. Henderson sighs. “The lie detection… that wasn’t part of our plan. It’s a side-effect that showed up in a few batches of the serum. We call it the Pinocchio Effect.”

“Appropriate name,” Allison says. “How does it work?”

“We don’t know,” Dr. Henderson says. “We tested it, and we got — well, you can see the type of effects we got. We’re not sure why.”

Allison nods. “So how do we reverse it?”

“I’m still working on that.” Dr. Henderson pulls up a research file on the computer. “I keep getting stuck on the metagenetic profile.”

Allison looks over her shoulder. “If you change that value, there —”

“It might compensate for the primary synthesis pathway!” Dr. Henderson pulls up a stool.

Jo watches them for a bit longer, and then smiles at Zoe. “Looks like a cure’s underway,” she says.

“Whatever.” Zoe’s staring down at the pile of hair in her lap. “Not like Dad’s going to let me out of the bunker now anyway.”

“Too bad Rapunzel grew her hair to climb down, not up,” Jo says, and then she realizes.

Mind-body connection. What if the serum’s triggering people’s bodies to manifest their subconscious fears? Zoe’s fear of her father keeping her locked up, like a princess in a tower. Fargo, always so worried about being scooped by other scientists, being forced to sleep and miss all their developments.

And Zane —

Jo takes a deep breath. Zane. 

“I’m going to be right over there,” she tells Zoe. “You good?”

“I could be totally good if you’d agree not to tell my dad what I did,” Zoe says.

Jo smiles. “We’ll talk about that later.”

* * *

Zane’s lying on top of the covers of his infirmary bed. If anyone could manage to make growing claws and fangs look like casual science Friday, it’s Zane.

He’s not pulling it off. Maybe to the lab techs who are pulling blood samples. But not to Jo, who already knows him better than she’d realized.

She watches from the curtains, listening to the rhythmic sounds of Fargo’s snores from the next bed over while the techs finish taking samples.

“Hey,” she says once the techs leave. “You got time for a visitor?”

Zane shakes his head. His hair hasn’t grown the way Zoe’s has, but it’s longer than it was when Jo showed up at his door, like he’s growing a mane. 

“I got nothing but time,” he says.

Jo pulls one of the chairs up beside his bed. “So what did you lie about?”

“Nothing important,” he says.

“You’re covered in hair and your teeth grew a full inch,” Jo says. “Want to try that again?”

Zane huffs. “Fine. I lied when I said I didn’t need you.”

“Didn’t need me, or didn’t need Eureka?”

“Both.” Zane’s not meeting her eyes. “I’ve been alone for a while, Jo. This doesn’t come easy to me.”

“I know,” Jo says. She takes a breath and lets it out, slowly. “Sometimes it’s not easy for me either.”

“I didn’t want you to see me like this,” Zane says.

“Tough.” Jo smiles.

“So… they figuring this thing out?” Zane raises his hands. “I tried to look at some of the records, but I destroyed the tablet.”

“Ouch.” Jo takes one of his hands in hers, careful of the nails.

Zane takes a deep breath. “Why are you being nice to me?”

“Because if my theory about this is correct, it means you think you’re a monster,” Jo says, quietly.

“What?” Zane’s eyes go wide under his wild hair. “I don’t.”

“Yeah,” Jo says. “You do. On some level.”

Zane looks away. “Maybe I’m just used to being a lone wolf.”

“Sounds lonely.”

He doesn’t say anything, but he holds Jo’s hand a little tighter. 

“I’ve got a cure for a curse we could try,” Jo says. “You know. While Allison and Dr. Henderson are figuring out the real cure.”

Zane tries to smile around his fangs.

Jo leans in over his bed, carefully, ever so carefully, to kiss his lips. Zane’s still, trying not to hurt her, but his hand comes up to brush her hair away.

She pulls back when one of Zane’s claws gets caught in her ponytail. “Not a cure?”

“Not yet.” Zane raises one shaggy eyebrow. “Better keep trying.”

Jo leans back in.

Zane needs this, needs this town, this community.

Needs Jo.

Carefully, ever so carefully, she kisses him again.

* * *

Fargo and Zoe get the easy version of the cure. Fargo just has to wake up to take his medicine, a process Jo happily assists with a bucket of cold water. 

Zoe’s reversal involves taking her medicine and then brushing out all the unnatural hair, which gets swept up and saved for a Global lab working on uncuttable fibers.

“I’m just glad I have my own hair left,” Zoe says, examining the ends of her natural hair, which is the same length it was before the whole Rapunzel incident.

“You looked good with it long,” Jo says. “You could grow it out.”

Zoe looks speculative. “Maybe,” she says. 

As for Zane — he won’t let Jo watch his transformation. According to Zane, it was a bit like watching the Wolfman turn back into a human.

“I could give you one of my teeth, though,” Zane says, once the transformation is complete and the GD infirmary team is willing to let him go home. “I saved a few. You never know when something like that will come in handy.”

“I’m good,” Jo says. Taggart’s the one who likes teeth on necklaces. Jo’s found the right sidearm speaks for itself.

“You want to get dinner?” Zane asks. “I didn’t get lunch. I was scared my teeth would shred my lip. I'm starving.”

“Allison said you and Zoe might have a protein deficiency once this was over,” Jo says. She bumps Zane’s shoulder with her own, and Zane wraps his arm around her.

Maybe Zane’s always going to have a bit of the lone wolf in him. But he wants to be with Jo. She can feel it.

“I’m starving,” Zane says. He leans down and kisses the top of Jo’s head. “Let’s go find out how many different types of burger meat Vince keeps on hand.”

Jo smiles. “Sounds like a date.”


End file.
